A Price For Everything
by TheEvilDog
Summary: Officially on Dovlornisk as part of a mission with the Inquisition, Trasken Vanghast has personal reasons for accepting the assignment. (A short story that I felt needed to be said. Based upon the Dark Heresy setting.)
1. Chapter 1

There's an old Cadian saying, "You die three times".

The first time happens when you take your last breath.

The second time is when your name is spoken for the final time.

The last time happens when your memorial is torn down.

* * *

A couple of years ago, I found out my mother was from Cadia. She was Imperial Guard, like I was...still am I guess. A Colonel from what I've been able to find out. She met my father, an officer in the Imperial Navy while her regiment was being transported from one warzone or another. I don't know if they were in love or what, but hey, one way or another, I was born and a couple of years later, they died. And I got dumped into the Schola Progenium.

When I found out about her, I travelled to Cadia.

And I kind of wish I hadn't.

Cadia is one of the most heavily defended worlds in the Imperium, because it stands as the gateway to the Eye of Terror and guards the only stable travel route. Definitely large enough for a fleet to travel through. And because of that reason, it's been subjected to multiple invasions. So every city is a fortress, every citizen is able to strip and fire a lasgun before they were ten years of age.

Thing is, Cadia has limited space for fancy things like graveyards and memorials. So to combat this, there's a law called the Law of Decipherability. Each graveyard is watched over by priests and when they find a headstone that is no longer legible, all the graves in that section are dug up and the bones are dumped into a pit.

I guess they figure that by that stage, there's no one around who would remember the dead anyway. Makes you wonder why would anyone care about people who have been dead for a couple of millennia anyway?

And I try to stop myself from laughing at the thought that my parents get a memorial in the shape of five kilometers of dead ship in orbit over the world that claimed them. I do, however, managed to go for a smile instead.

Of course, things were done differently on Dovlornisk. Ì couldn't tell you when Dovlornisk was settled, maybe during the Dark Age of Technology... Certainly seems old enough. That said, I don't know why anyone would be stupid enough to settle on a toxic planet. I mean, sure, the lower plains of Dovlornisk are fertile enough to feed its population as well as pay its tithes to the Imperium, there's something about the air on the plains that makes it nearly impossible for people to actually live on the surface. Someone tried to explain it to me once, though I wasn't paying attention. Instead, the majority of Dovlornisk's population of ninety million live in a dozen floating cities, just on the edges of the breathable altitude. As such, off-world visitors to any of these cities usually find it hard to breathe due to the reduced oxygen for the first few days until they get used to it. Or they do like me and cheat and carry small rebreathers for when they get a little light headed.

Still, it's better than the poor bastards who live in the lower levels of the cities. I couldn't tell you how old these cities are, but I know they're no longer working as well as they used to. Every few years there are dips in the power supply and a city drops a couple of hundred feet. Not enough to crash, but just enough that people living on the lower levels get dangerously close to the toxic cloud. Sometimes, its only the "Netters" who die, those poor bastards who can't even afford a room, they just sleep on the large cargo nets under each city. Other times, there's a sudden increase in available rooms, that is, if you don't mind clearing the dead from each room...

The problem with floating cities in the clouds is that space is really limited, so the people of Dovlornisk practice cremation. The bodies of the dead are placed in specialised plasma generators, then depending on how rich you were, the next stage of the funeral took place. The ashes of the majority are let loose on the wind, while those of the noble houses are taken aside and converted into crystalline matrices. This crystals are then taken and turned into hololith emitters, loaded with a holographic image of the deceased. I guess they're just fancy headstones.

And yet, here I am, sitting in one of these gardens, specifically the Gardens of House Tastrov, looking out through one of the viewports and a sea of dirty grey clouds looks back...I'd be trying to smoke a lhostick if it wasn't for two reasons. The first being these gardens prohibit smoking, something about the smoke damaging the emitters. The second is that I already know that being this high up, the lhostick would extinguish even before I could have that first drag. I don't normally smoke, but then I don't usually hang around in gardens filled with creepy reminders of the dead.

I arrived on Dovlornisk a week ago on an assignment with several other members of my team. Nothing major, just some follow up on an old investigation. These investigations never truly end, you just tie up the threads and keep checking to make sure they don't come loose. Sometimes I feel more like a tailor than a soldier.

I was part of the original investigation; knew the layout of the cities, still had some contacts here and there, so naturally I was told to come here.

I always did serve as the point-man and I'm still doing it now, it's just instead of carapace armour, I'm in the uniform of a Naval Junior Officer. Could have gone for a higher ranking, but that's just begging for people to notice me. Of course, the left arm has been adjusted to accomodate the heavy gauntlet that replaced my arm. Which isn't very subtle, but mixed in with a couple of hundred other officers and I fit right in.

For this week, at least, I am Elias Noq - a Junior Officer on the _Sword of Saints_ , a light cruiser in orbit over Dovlornisk, on shore leave for a few days. If I'm seen going to some of the shadier areas of the city, hey, I'm just looking for a little fun before heading back...

My thoughts are interrupted when I realise I have company.

A young girl, about eight years old, looking at me from behind a stuffed animal. Dressed in a heavy velvet robe, dark brown hair framed the edges of her face and though most of her face was hidden behind the animal, I could tell that a line of freckles ran across her nose. Grey eyes peaked out at me and I can't tell if she's afraid of me or if she's smiling.

" _Your arm is funny_." By now the stuffed animal is by her side and a warm smile is being flashed at me. I can see a slight gap in the girl's teeth, she's already lost a tooth. Somehow, the loss of the tooth doesn't take away from the warmth of the smile.

I can see she's waiting for a response and so I look at my arm and wriggle the fingers a few times. " _I guess it is. It's also pretty special too._ "

I've piqued her interest and she hides behind the animal again before she asks another question, " _Why is it special?_ " She definitely has the Dovlornisk accent, not as thick as the adults, but it's there.

Returning a smile of my own, I spin my hand around a couple of times " _Well you see, I lost my arm a long time ago and this was given to me by a friend. I can lift really heavy things with it._ "

Before the girl can talk again, a voice calls out from down the pathway, " _Karina? KARINA! Karina, where are you child?_ " and I can see the girl is flinching.

I look at the girl and watch as she tries to hide behind the animal once more, " _I take it that you are Karina?_ " and smile slightly as she nods.

 _"I think your mother is looking for you."_

The animal is once again by Karina's side and the smile is gone. She looks on the verge of tears and wipes away one on her sleeve. " _No, Ser. I came to see Mama today._ "

It takes me a few seconds to understand what she meant, but without pause, I take a hankerchef from a side pocket and offer it to her, " _Dry your eyes child. I'm sure your mother wouldn't want to see you so upset._ "

I watch the kid smile, wipe her eyes for her and I offer her the sign of the Aquila, " _You had better be getting back now, Ms. Karina, else they might call the guards to find you._ "

She flashes a smile again and took off towards the source of the voice; a rather stern looking governess who glares at me like I had suddenly developed multiple mutations.

A tap on my shoulder and I see Thalsom Adare, one of a handful of people I would call a friend. A former member of the Arbites, Adare had long served as an agent for the Old Man before working for his successor. An investigator without peer, Adare was always someone I was glad to have acting as back up.

The fact that I could mock him about his being as bald as a cue ball since he was nine also helped.

A worn and craggy face split into a thin smile followed by a voice that I can only describe as a truck's engine dying a thousand deaths, " _Didn't realise you had so many connections here, Van. You do realise that would be Karina Yrena Tastrov, the Governor's grand-daughter?_ "

I look back and I know I can't smile back, the little girl with the stuffed animal is gone, " _I know._ " I stand up off the bench and straighten out my jacket before looking back at Thalsom.

" _She's my daughter_."


	2. Chapter 2

I can feel the heat off the caffeine even through the glove.

Even more, I can smell the damned nuts they use to flavour every fecking hot drink on this planet. Its not unpleasent, but when having it shoved into my face every time I have a drink and it gets a little...much.

* * *

Adare paying the service girl snaps me from my thoughts just in time to see her flashing a smile at me. I thank her for the caffeine and the service, throwing a few coins into a nearby cup as I follow Adare away from the cart.

The Commercia Square, usually busy with merchants and traders, is slowly winding down from the day's deals. Merchants followed by local bodyguards walk away from the Square, talking into their microbeads, no doubt discussing the days successes and failures with the elders of their Houses. A butcher is finishing carving some meat and handing it over to her two apprentices, watching them wrapping it in paper before sending them home for the evening. A confessor has taken to a makeshift pulpit in a corner of the market, preaching to any and all who walk past him.

Night is closing in and I can already see the evening frost creep along the edges of the shop windows. A sip of caffeine and I'm suddenly very grateful for the heat.

I can't stand it here.

Its so peaceful and for me or at least people like me, I find it disturbing. I know I'm not a peaceful man. I have only ever felt comfortable with a weapon in hand.

I have to tap the holster on my hip, to remind myself it's there and to calm myself.

The last time I was here, I was ducking for cover behind upturned carts and stalls, trading fire with a couple of assassins. Walking past a baker's stall, I wince slightly; remembering the stub round that grazed my thigh...and ass. I dropped the assassin, but there are some injuries that will I always remember and be forever embarressed about.

" _Its the uniform. People love the uniform_." Thalsom breaks the silence as we finally leave the Square and turn towards a small park. " _They look at you and they think some hero will take them off to an adventure in the stars._ "

A sip of caffeine and I smile. " _Meanwhile, people see you and they shit themselves_."

Rather amusingly, the identity assigned to Thalsom was that of an Astra Militarum Commissar. I think in another life, Thalsom would have made an excellent Commissar. A completely different life... The more I think about, the more I realise that's too much power for him...

With Thalsom's glare burning into the back of my head, we find a bench near the statue of another Imperial Saint. An entire row of statues line the pathway ahead, each statue showing righteous fury...or pain as they show their stylised martyrdom.

I hear Thalsom taking a deep breath before reaching towards the inside of his jacket. Instinctively, my hand is motioning towards my holster until I see it's a dataslate. " _Van, you're being reassigned_."

" _Is this because I tipped the girl more than you did?_ " Thalsom isn't laughing. Then again, neither am I. I knew it had to be bad if Thalsom arranged to see me before the pre-arranged time.

" _Ha...ha._ " Still the same stale laugh as always. I'd known Thalsom Adare for nearly six years and the man had the complete and utterly inability to actually laugh or tell a joke. I took to studying the dataslate as he continued " _The night before last, the real Elias Noq was in a bar in Linska playing cards with several crewmates and a couple of locals. Noq got drunk, lost a hand and shot a couple of people. He was arrested by the local PDF and his trial and execution took place yesterday morning. Only now officials are wondering why his pass is showing up in St. Camille a day after his death. We've been able to fool them into thinking its a glitch or delayed payments, but we can't do it for too much longer._ "

I sigh and rub my temple. I knew there had been a risk using Noq as an identity, the man had a discipline longer than a ship's honours. How he hadn't been shot before now, I don't know. " _How long?_ "

I watched Thalsom adjust his collar, shielding himself for the wind cutting through the park. " _We can fool them until morning. But we're getting a ship prepped to take you to your next assignment before that. If you have anything to take care of, do it before then._ "

" _Right._ " I drain the caffeine and crush the cup before dumping it in a nearby bin. This change in events had left me feeling increasingly angry. " _Any idea where I'm going?_ "

By now, Thalsom had taken the dataslate back and pressed several runes, deleting the information contained. " _Yes. Dawnslight. Word is coming from Corvanz herself, you're leading a Combat Team. Dawnslight is a Paradise World, but if you're going there, well, I won't book any trips there any time soon._ "

Another attempt at shitty humour from my friend.

Adare stared at me and I knew what he was going to ask even before he opened his mouth. " _Are you going to tell me?_ "

" _Tell you what?_ " I shifted in my seat. As much as I thought of him as a friend, I didn't like sharing information about myself. Him putting me on the spot like this isn't going to end well, for either of us.

" _Van. I was a very good investigator when I was an Arbitrator. I could look into this myself but I'd rather hear it from you_."

I sigh again. " _Fine. I have a daughter. Nine years ago, the Old Man got a message from a representative of House Tastrov. His master helped secure House Tastrov as the ruling House of Dovlornisk three hundred years ago and they provided the Inquisition with, well, anything_."

I stop for a moment, just enough to make sure we're not being watched. Satisified for the time being, " _One of the rival Houses had hired assassins to wipe out House Tastrov and take control of the planet. So the Old Man agreed to help and lead the investigation himself. While he looked for the assassins and who hired them, several agents were assigned to guard key members of the House. I was one of the human shields because that's what we were. Thats when I met Nadya Varyan Tastrov, Kiryan Tastrov's eldest daughter._ "

For the briefest instance I can feel something against my cheek. The wind was getting to me.

By now, Adare has gotten up from the bench and taken out a lhostick. " _By the Throne, Van..._ " After a few failed attempts to light it, the lhostick is in the bin, followed by a few choice swears.

" _Leave it be Adare, I know. Half the time I was trying to make sure neither of us got our heads blown off! I had to act as her shadow for six months!_ "

Was it really six months? Sometimes it felt like an eternity, other times only a moment...

" _And?_ "

The question snapped me back to reality and I snapped. " _And you spend that much time around someone...and things happen._ "

" _Damn it, Van. What the fuck were you thinking?!_ "

Ignoring him, I lit my own lhostick. " _Between the Old Man's efforts and the other agents, we wiped out around forty six assassins over eight months. Finally, they tried to launch a final assault on the Tastrov estate. We stopped them of course, but during the fight, I took a few rounds from a heavy stubber, stomach you know, and the next thing I knew, I'm waking up in the Medbay of the Old Man's ship, leaving Dovlornisk._ "

Thalsom sighed, a little too loudly for my liking and sat beside me once more. " _So when did you find out?_ "

I take a drag on the lhostick, letting the smoke settle in my mouth for a moment before breathing it out. " _About a year ago. I got a message from Nadya telling me about her._ "

The only thing more surprising than getting the message from her was that she was able to find me at all. The Old Man had been dead for nearly three years at that stage and Corvanz network of contacts had changed immensely. And yet, I got it.

" _And what are you going to do?_ " The question hit me like a truck. I knew what I was going to do but actually saying it out loud...that was different. It was taking an idea and making it real

" _Keep out of the kid's life. She doesn't need to know me. She's grown up with a fantasy of a man._ " Looking at the statue of the saint, I can feel that anger returning. Like so many of the saints in the park, he's been given huge avian wings and a flaming sword in his hand. " _She thinks her father is a hero. That kid thinks he's off on some planet to make the galaxy safe for her and Humanity. She thinks he's a knight. Let her keep the dream._ "

I pull my jacket tighter around me. It was my turn to leave, knowing that time was short and I still had one last job to do on Dovlornisk before the morning came. I light a lhostick for Adare and hand it to him.

" _She doesn't need to know her father is a grunt. She doesn't need to know that her father is a man who is going to either end up with a knife in the back or shot in the gut and left to die in a ditch. I've done too many things to be a part of her life. So I'm going to do the best thing for her and keep out of her life. She needs a saint, not a killer._ "

I walk away from my friend, leaving him in the shadows of saints, knowing that I'd never be one.


	3. Chapter 3

There's usually one of Dovlornik's twin moons hanging in the sky at night. Locals call them Solnya and Millyna, the Lovers. Something about their respective orbits means that its almost impossible to see them at the same time. A friend tried to explain it to me once. I didn't pay that much attention. I don't think she fully understood it either.

But there is something about them that is enough to inspire poets and songwriters alike, walk into one of the registered drinking houses and chances are you could be welcomed by the lyrics of a romance between two lovers, forever destined to be apart.

I can see why people might think that.

* * *

Solnya is a gas giant, home to nearly a dozen refineries manned by thousands of servitors and criminals. Every single one of those refineries are helping to feed a score of planets across the sector. I'm told it constantly smells like shit.

Millyna is a dead husk the Adeptus Mechanicus used to test newly rediscovered weapons and technology. Now its a dead city.

I think I prefer the local's version.

There is another legend about those moons though. On the rare nights when there is no moon in the sky, murder is supposed to take place. Apparently the Lovers refuse to see the sight of blood being spilled.

I wonder if it ever occurred to people that the darker nights gave more opportunity for crimes to be committed.

Probably not.

Its three in the morning local time and I'm in the middle of a hololith memorial garden, waiting. I know I've never been the most patient of men, but even now I'm feeling agitated. Seeing... _her_ , the news from Thalsom and this job, I know its not leaving me in the best frame of mind.

And then the sound of a vehicle pulling up nearby grabs my attention. The throaty roar of the engine dulls down to an idle thudding - from the sounds of it, the vehicle is in a desperate need of a tune-up from a priest. But more importantly, I know who it is; the nature of the cities on Dovlornisk don't allow for many privately owned vehicles, in fact all of them were in the hands of the Noble Houses.

And in St. Camille that meant one family alone.

I can hear the approach of people and from the sounds of it, four, at least. They're probably fully armed and armoured, House Tastrov Bondsmen, elite bodyguards for the House. Not surprising they'd be out.

What did surprise me was the light clacking sound that just rose over the noise of the Bondsmen. High heels...

Two of the bodyguards came into view first, clad in ceremonial carapace armour and raising some brutal looking autoguns at me.

If they wanted me dead, well, they were certainly going about it the right way...

A quick command in High Gothic from their charge and the pair of bodyguards step to one side, allowing a young woman to step past them, all with the air of someone born with a silver spoon up their arse. It had been nearly ten years since I had last seen her and she had certainly grown up in that time.

Doesn't mean she's matured in that time though.

Yrenya Gavrilla Tastrov, Kiryan Tastrov's second daughter. Blonde hair pulled back tight into a bun, leaving only a few strands frame her face. Probably a good thing too, given that her cheeks looked sharp enough to slice through ferrocrete. Seeing her now, Yrenya had the look of a blade given human form, all wrapped up in blue velvet and a shawl made from some xenos animal. Probably a former pet.

I hear she fancies herself as a spymistress for her father, working with all her little contacts.

Yrenya smiles, the same kind of smile I'd imagine a serpent would give to its prey, and spoke with a voice dripping with venom. " _Are we still going by Elias Noq? Or have we taken a new name for ourselves?_ "

" _Names don't mean much, especially not in my line of work._ " I adjust my jacket, just to give a glimpse of the pistol holstered under my arm. A not-so-subtle warning, but then again, I don't do subtle.

In an instant, the charade drops and still the venom remained. She never did like me. " _Indeed. Though I imagine for someone such as yourself, to live so long doing what you do, you must make some sort of name for yourself._ "

" _Only if I want a bounty on my head, my lady._ "

I can hear the other pair of bodyguards flanking me. If she wanted me dead, well, I'm dead. I'm giving her ample opportunity but she doesn't seem to want to take the bait.

" _I see. You know I could have that arranged in an instant, Mr. Vanghast_ " She takes a few steps towards me intentionally setting herself between her bodyguards and myself, stopping only to whisper in my ear " _I know why you are here._ "

" _Oh?_ " I can see the anger bubbling to the surface.

I can feel something pressing into my ribs. Its not a blade or a pistol. But if Yrenya has it, it must be dangerous. Enough to get to arms distance to me and to tell me " _And I will not let you take my niece!_ "

She stares at me, with a hatred I doubt any preacher could ever muster. I return a stare of my own. I've never been one to back down and I won't start tonight. " _Is that right?_ "

Whatever it is Yrenya has pressed to my side, she slides towards my hand, not even flinching at the sound of metal against metal. " _Here_." A thin dataslate, House Tastrov's coat of arms inscribed around the frame work. " _A promissory note for ten thousand gelt. Its good across the sector._ "

" _And this is for?_ "

" _You stay away from her for the rest of your life._ "

I don't even give the dataslate a second look as I hit the delete rune and tower over Yrenya. Given the spread of those autoguns I'm counting on the bodyguards not risking her life. " _I'm going to say this once and once only. I don't like repeating myself!_ " The bodyguards brace themselves and yet I don't care. " _I didn't come here for money! I didn't come here to take your niece away from you! I came here for two reasons only – to do my job... and to pay my respects._ "

Her stare softens and I can see a hint of shame creep in instead. " _Very well._ "

I back down as I hand the dataslate back to her. I've never been what might be called a people person, I... never really been able to talk to people and now only one thing comes to mind. There's only one thing I want to know.

" _Did...was she in any pain?_ "

She knew the question was coming and it still hit her with all the force of a speeding truck. " _No_." Yrenya choked back the tears. " _It was sudden and painless. One night she simply went to sleep and never woke up. Our family chirugeon called it natural causes._ "

Its all I can do to force a quiet " _I'm sorry for your loss._ "

" _Thank you._ "

For all the grief I've given her in the last few minutes, I realise I'm talking to a woman who has lost her sister. I'd almost say I was jealous to have that connection but...

Neither of us can say her name, not out loud. We stand in silence for a moment and I can see her trying to stop the tears forming in her eyes. _"Yrenya, I never knew about Karina until last y-_ "

" _I know. Nadya told me after she sent you the message. I think she knew that she didn't have much time left._ " She paused, steeling herself before continuing " _Mr. Vanghast, I may not like you, but that is neither here nor there anymore. I loved my sister and a part of me died when she did. My husband and I have taken her into our home, Karina is all that is left of my sister._ "

" _Good._ " My stomach is twisting, this is harder than I had expected. " _I can't be a father to her. My life...its not the kind I want to expose a child to. I can't remember my own parents, I lost my childhood when I was five. I might be a bastard, but I'm not that bad as to inflict that on anyone, least of all my own daughter. Give her the life I can't._ "

The shawl around Yrenya's neck lowered slightly as she pulled a small locket from around her neck and placed it into my hand. A silver heart hung from a delicate chain, the symbol of House Tastrov engraved on it.

" _She loved you._ "

" _I know._ " The words barely form and I wish I could say more.

" _My father knows that you are in the city. The guards have already been informed, they've already begun their search. I can delay them for half an hour. Make the most of it._ " And like that, she's gone, her bodyguards following without a word spoken.

And I'm left standing in the middle of a garden.

I can guess what's in the locket.

Maybe its one last jab from Yrenya.

Or maybe its two people sharing their grief.

I slip the locket into my jacket before walking over to a small display and kneel before it, touching the activation rune. I never liked these things, but still, I wait.

They don't bury the dead on Dovlornisk, they scatter the ashes to the winds and and the nobility leave behind hololith memorials.

The light flickers at first. The blue tinged image is hazy, slowly coming into focus.

Its the smile I see first.

Then the eyes.

For an instant Nadya is back before me, smiling, laughing, brushing her hair back before the hololith loops again.

I know she's not real and yet I can't stop myself reaching out to touch her cheek.

" _Goodbye dearheart."_

And she's gone again.


End file.
